Home to My Heart
by Jagged Little Thrill
Summary: AU.SM Kohaku has been struggling since their fathers death. He vanadalizes Miroku's van, and has to learn his lesson. Can Sango figure out how to keep her family together? And can she resist the charm of the wheelchair bound ex cop? Can he resist her?
1. Chapter 1

Home to My Heart

Don't own Inuyasha.

Chapter 1: Community Service

"Kohaku?" Sango called from the porch. She had no idea where her fourteen-year-old brother had gotten to. After the death of their father, he had been acting out more, and hanging around with a thug named Naraku. It always terrified her when she couldn't find him.

Pulling on a fall jacket, Sango began to search the neighborhood. It was a nicer area. Her father had seen to it that the house was paid for before he died of cancer a year ago. If he hadn't, Sango couldn't imagine that they would have been able to get by as they did. Even now, things were tight. Sango's salary as a secretary for the Takahashi brothers didn't pay for more than the necessities. Sango had been life long friends with Inuyasha's wife Kagome, and she knew that if she even hinted to her that they need it….Kagome would make sure Sango got a pay raise. Yet Sango's pride would never allow that.

The air was getting cooler, and Sango was beginning to worry even more. Maybe he made it home already, she thought hopefully. When she got half way to her house, she stopped dead in her tracks. In the drive sat a police car. Her heart pounded wildly as she ran. "Kohaku?"

Her brother was sitting on the front porch with his head in his hands. "Oh, thank God! Kohaku are you alright?" she cried wrapping her arms around him. Only then did she recognize the officer standing behind him. "What's going on?"

Sango knew Tom Riley. He'd been on the force with her father for years, but she'd never seen him look this angry. He took off his hat, and ran a hand through his thinning gray hair. "Sango, I'm afraid there's been a problem. Kohaku and some other kids were vandalizing a disabled man's van. The guy's a friend of mine, and I was passing by when it was happening. I caught Kohaku red handed, but the others managed to get away."

Sango's head spun. How could he do this? Her voice was as cold as ice when she finally did speak. "Kohaku, go to your room." She turned to the older man. "So what now?"

"Well, now I am going to get the other kids. Kohaku did give me the names of two others that were involved. He claims it was Naraku's idea, and knowing that little bastard….he's probably right. Charges will be filed, so you are going to have to make a court appearance," he told her calmly. His features had softened a bit. "Sango, is there something going on here? I've known you kids for a long time."

"Kohaku hasn't been himself since Daddy died," she said shakily as she held back tears. "I just can't believe that he would do something like this."

Tom sat down beside her on the steps. "He misses your old man, but that's no excuse. I tell ya, I've known the guy they were messing with. He used to be a damn good cop. Got shot in the line of duty protecting a kid in a gang shoot out. Seeing something like this happen to a guy like him doesn't make me feel very sympathetic, but I knew your dad. I talked to Miroku, and I think we might have an agreement."

Sango swallowed hard. "I just don't know how we'll afford to pay for the damages, but I know we have to."

"Not necessarily," Tom said. "Miroku's a good guy like I said. I talked it over with him, and he's willing to take it out in trade. He pays for people to do some lawn work for him…ya know mow grass, that kind of thing, and in the winter he has someone shovel snow. He'll "pay" Kohaku to take over until the debt is paid. Of course, there still will be a hearing, but with Miroku standing for him, Kohaku will probably get a slap on the wrist."

Biting her lip, Sango nodded. It would be the best thing for Kohaku. He had been getting out of control for a long time now. This was just the final straw. "Thanks, Tom. I'm so sorry that he did this. Will you tell your friend?"

The officer nodded. "I will, but I've got to get going."

Sango watched the squad car drive off, and noticed that she wasn't the only one. Neighbors were all out on their porches and lawns staring and whispering. It was no secret that Kohaku had been getting in trouble lately. In this place, people didn't have anything better to do than gossip. Within a week, she didn't doubt that the entire housing plan would know about it. Kohaku was going to be the "bad" kid on the block now. Her father would be ashamed.

Inside, Sango called for her brother. He came down the stairs with his head low. "I thought I could get away," he said solemnly as he stepped in front of her.

Before she knew it, her hand flew across his cheek. "Is that all you can say?"

Tears began to flow from his eyes. "I'm sorry!"

"Are you?" she cried. "The man is handicapped! He's crippled because he saved another person's life, and you decide to mess with his van? How could you?"

"He called the cops on Naraku when he was selling….something in front of the mini-mart. It was payback."

Sango saw red. "He did the right thing! Since when do you hang out with drug dealers? I don't even know you anymore, Kohaku! How could you?"

The teen turned on his heel, and ran upstairs. She heard his door slam. Sango managed not to cry until she was sitting in her kitchen. The only thing running through her mind was failure. She had failed to keep her promise to their father. Just before he died, Sango had promised him that she would never let anything bad happen to Kohaku, that she would always take care of him. Her father would be so ashamed of her. Like her, their father had been a proud man. He had raised them on his own since their mother died. Never once did he let something like this happen. What was she going to do? Sango covered her face with her hands and wept inconsolably.

A week later, Sango and Kohaku were seated in the waiting room at the county court house. When they'd found out what happened, Sesshomaru and Inuyasha had both insisted that the company's lawyer, Jaken, go with her. She was thankful that she had friends, but it was still rather embarrassing. Jaken was a short, bald man with yellowish hazel eyes. He'd never been all that nice to her, but he'd never do anything that could even remotely anger his boss. Jaken had a healthy fear of the older Takahashi brother.

Jaken straightened his expensive tie. "You should be grateful that this is his first offense, and that he's a minor," he said irritably.

Kohaku rolled his eyes, and muttered something under his breath. Jaken didn't catch it, but Sango did. "Fuck you, you little toad."

Sango's lips thinned and she ignored it.

Time seemed to be passing at a snail's pace. About five minutes to the hour, Sango caught a glimpse of Tom coming through the door. The officer held it open as a young man in a wheelchair came through. All she could do was stare. THIS was the man her brother had terrorized? He was much younger than she had imagined; he couldn't be more than twenty-five. Even in the chair, he was exceptionally handsome with his dark hair pulled back. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, and his suit was neatly pressed giving him a very stylish look. He seemed to notice her staring, and nodded in her direction.

Her cheeks felt like they were on fire as she returned the gesture.

The magistrate that ruled over the hearing was an older woman. She adjusted her glasses, and narrowed her eyes at Kohaku. "I have just finished reading over the list of damages to Mr. Koriasu's van. Do you have any idea what the total of all of the damages comes to, young man?"

"No, ma'am," Kohaku replied softly.

"All told it comes to nearly five thousand dollars," the judge told him. "From what I have learned in your friend Naraku's hearing. This was a crime of revenge. I commend Mr. Koriasu for doing his civic duty, and I find it disgusting that you would seek to punish the good people of this community who would come forward about such disgraceful behavior. Haven is a good community with hard working law abiding citizens. I will not see them victimized for standing up to the scum. Mr. Koriasu, do you have anything to say before I read my descision?"

Mr. Koriasu nodded. "I do, your honor. I was a police officer for nearly seven years, two in New York city as well as another five in Haven, and during my time on the force I learned a lot about human nature. There is always a root source to every problem. I believe wholeheartedly in doing the best to address the cause and not just the effect. From a friend of mine, I have learned that Kohaku and his sister have been through a rough time. While that does not excuse his actions, nor does it change my mind that he should be punished for them, I ask that you consider a lighter sentence for the boy. In lui of monetary recompense, I am willing to let him work off his debt to me. I believe that learning just how hard you have to work to pay for something like this may stop him from ever doing such an act again."

"You are a very forgiving man, Mr. Koriasu. I doubt there are many people who would see things the way you do. While I am taking your words into consideration, I will add to them. Kohaku Akiato, this court finds you guilty of breaking and entering, destruction of property, and of harassment. You will be fined seven hundred dollars, and be responsible for paying in cash for one fifth of the estimated damages. Also, you will be serving four hundred hours community service providing whatever assistance Mr. Koriasu requires of you. Now, this sentence is relatively light by comparison to that given to Naraku as it is your first offense, but I warn you, Kohaku—make this your ONLY offense." The judge tapped her mallet, and that was that.

Sango had to fight the urge to drop her head and cry. Where was she going to get the money? The only way she could even possibly make it was to dip into Kohaku's college fund. The thought of taking money out of the account her father had left for him turned her stomach.

After the hearing, it took all of Sango's courage to approach the man who was now speaking to Officer Riley in the parking lot. She smiled. "Tom, how are you?"

The older man smiled back sadly. "Can't complain. Sango this is Miroku Koriasu. Miroku, this is Sango Akiato. She's Kohaku's older sister."

Miroku shook her hand, and even with the sunglasses back on she could tell he was looking her up and down. "Under any other circumstances, I would say that it's a pleasure to meet you."

"That about sums it up. Mr. Koriasu, I am terribly sorry about all of the trouble Kohaku has caused you."

"Please call me Miroku," he told her casually. "He made a mistake and he's going face the consequences. There is no point in holding a grudge as long as he has learned his lesson, and used it to grow from."

"If you haven't guessed," Tom quipped. "Miroku's into all that psychology crap."

Miroku laughed. "And I think your could use some professional help Tom." He sobered up a bit, and turned to Sango. "I work with troubled teenagers at the youth center as a counselor."

"Well that explains why you are so lenient with Kohaku," she said looking to the ground. "I don't know that I could be."

"If you knew some of the mistakes I'd made, you'd understand. I know what it's like to be caught in a gang mentality. With your permission, I would like Kohaku to spend some of his service time at the center with me."

"It's alright I guess, but I thought you had lawn work for him?" Sango asked.

Miroku nodded. "We have a lot of time for both. When can I expect him?"

"He's off school at three-thirty tomorrow. I could take off early and drive him over," Sango suggested. Not that I can afford to take off, she add to herself.

"I would offer to pick him up, but my van is still in the shop." He was looking directly at Tom.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll do it, but this is the last time I let you call in a favor for the Malone case!"

"Tom, here and I thought you were doing it out of the goodness of your heart."

The camaraderie between the pair made her miss her father terribly. As a life long cop, he had been a big on this kind of relationship. "A guy won't have your back in a bad situation unless he's like your brother and your like his," he'd told her. All of a sudden, a ball of emotion rose in her throat. She excused herself, and went to the car where Kohaku was waiting.

"Tom's going to be picking you up from school tomorrow and you're going to Mr. Koriasu's," she told him flatly. She couldn't break down, not yet.

Kohaku didn't respond. He spent the entire ride home staring out of the window. It broke Sango's heart to realize that she really didn't know the boy sitting beside her. From the time her father had died, it was like he had become someone entirely different. Kohaku had always been a gentle boy—almost too soft hearted, she used to think—but that wasn't the boy who had done this. At home, Sango let him race up the stairs away from her. What good would a lecture do right now?

A knock at the door interrupted Sango's pity party. She had known that Kagome wouldn't wait long after the trial to come over. "Hey, Sango," Kagome said softly. "I heard things didn't go so well."

Sango nodded and told her all about the trial. "But at least Kohaku didn't get hit with the full cost of the damages," she added. "But still…"

Kagome nodded, and reached for her purse. "Well that I can take care of."

"No!" Sango cried. No matter how bad things got she wasn't going to start relying on her friends charity.

"Geez, Sango, just think of it as yours and Kohaku's Christmas and birthday gifts for like the next ten years from me and Inuyasha. You'll be saving me from taking that dog brain to the mall—Have you seen him shop?"

Even in her bad mood, Sango had to laugh at the image of Inuyasha carrying all of Kagome's bags as the pregnant woman shopped for the baby. "If I agree to take money from you, you have to let me pay you back with interest," Sango told her.

Kagome rolled her eyes. "Fine."

Tired of the topic, Sango decided to bring up something happier. "I got the invitation to Sesshomaru's wedding."

"I still can't believe he's marrying a girl younger than me," Kagome said with a laugh. "That old perv! He's eleven years older than she is."

Sango snorted indignantly. "That old perv is only three years older than I am! And Rin isn't that young." Sesshomaru and Rin were the oddest couple Sango had ever met. Rin had grown up with the Takahashi brothers, and had followed Sesshomaru around since she was a small child. It amazed Sango that the cold man really loved anyone, but she'd seen just how much he really did when Rin was in an accident a while ago. The hyper-active beauty had a hold on him that no one else ever did. It was good to see them happy together.

"Those two kind of prove that sometimes things work out for the best," Kagome told her with a smile.

"Sometimes, but not always."

Kagome ignored Sango's pessimism. "So you met the gifted groper?" she asked holding back a laugh.

"Gifted groper?"

"Miroku!"

Sango's eyes widened. "You know him? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I kind of didn't make the connection until I heard his name. You never told me all of the details until today, and it would be just wrong for me to push Jaken for details."

"Not to mention illegal," Sango grumbled. "So why do you call him that?"

"The man's hands have a talent for ending up on women's asses. I was so tempted to smack him the last time! If it wasn't for the wheelchair, I think Inuyasha would have killed him."

"I can see the headline now: Irate Billionaire Murders Disabled Man. So exactly how is it that you know him?" Sango asked.

Kagome shrugged. "We met when I was doing volunteer work at the youth center. Miroku puts just about all he's got into that place."

"He's a saint, or so I've heard." Sango didn't know why she was being so contrary about the man.

"Um, I wouldn't go that far," Kagome corrected. "Miroku isn't perfect, but he is a good guy. Just think of what would have happened to Kohaku if he hadn't been so great about the whole thing."

"True enough," she agreed.

Kagome picked up her purse, and hugged Sango. "Listen, if there is anything you need, call us. Inuyasha might growl a bit, but he cares as much as I do."

Sango nodded. "I know, and thank you."

Feeling only marginally better than before her friend had come, Sango stared at the last family photo that had ever been taken with her parents. Kohaku was just a baby then, and her parents both looked so young. She wondered if they were watching her right now. She hoped not. She didn't want them to see what a mess she'd made of things.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Man On a Mission

Miroku handed Tom a cup of coffee, and rolled himself into the living room. They'd been friends ever since Miroku transferred in to Haven nearly ten years ago. Despite not being a cop anymore, he still had a lot of friends on the force both in Haven and in New York. It was perhaps one of the few things that eased his longing for the uniform.

"So what's the deal with babe?" he asked taking a sip.

Tom shrugged. "Sango tries too hard. That kid's all she's got left in this world, and he treats her like shit. She works for the Takahashi Corporation under the owners, but as far as I can tell, she just makes in on cash."

Miroku shook his head. This wasn't uncommon. He couldn't count the times he'd seen single moms, dads, and grandparents struggling to hold on to the kids they loved even as the kids became more and more out of control. "She looked like she was ready start crying in the court room."

"Probably was." Tom took a long breath. "So what are you going to do?"

"Try and get this kid to crack. I don't think he's truly a bad kid. Messed up, but not bad." Miroku remembered the look on the boy's face when he'd come out on the porch. He may have run from Tom, but he didn't really mean to get away.

"Saving the world one delinquent at a time," Tom muttered. He wasn't always the biggest supporter of this kind of thing. He was more "old school" in his handling of the younger perps. "Treat them like the adults" was pretty much his M.O. The two had fought about it more than once.

Miroku smiled wryly. "And then I'll save his sister.

Tom just laughed. "Think you're man enough for Sango?"

"Hey, just because I'm a gimp…" he said with mock indignation.

Most people would instantly back off and become awkward, but not Tom. "Boy, you weren't man enough for her when you were in uniform. And I've seen you play the 'pity me' card for all it's worth, but don't think that will work on this one."

It was true: Miroku loved women. Before being shot, he had been a real ladies man. He'd left more bedrooms, hotel rooms, and back seats than most men did in a lifetime in his early twenties. Even when he met his ex-fiancé, Miroku had still looked. Now, Miroku's flirtations were merely that. He'd play the game, and then leave just when things could have been getting good. His one therapist had told him, "just because you can't feel your dick doesn't stop you from thinking with it." In his case, that was mostly true. Today, it had been all he could do to control himself. Sango was a beautiful woman with all of the right curves in all of the right places, but he could tell that she wasn't the type of woman to mess around with. He had always been more attracted to white women for some reason. Though he was of Japanese descent—or perhaps because of it—he saw his own little sister in a lot of Asian women. Sango was different. He shook off the image of the sad woman.

Tom left shortly after, and Miroku began his usual evening routine. When he was out of physical therapy, he began his own work out regiment. His arms had to be strong enough to take over where his legs couldn't. The results were fairly impressive. He wasn't bulky, but he had a very muscular upper body. At this point in his life, he probably could afford to be a bit more lax with his exercise, but it was one way to stay active. Miroku had been a life long athlete and top-notch competitor. He might even have been able to play major league baseball if he hadn't dropped out of the program in college to follow his dream of being a detective. Now, Miroku played in an informal basketball league with some other handicapped men at the YMCA.

He took off his sweaty shirt after his workout and tossed it in the hamper. Locking the wheels in place, Miroku shifted himself out of his chair and onto the bed. By now, he was used to sliding his lifeless legs in and out of clothing. He was also used to the presence of his catheter—not a pleasant part of being a paraplegic. In rehab, things like this would set him off into a sort of depression induced rage. He'd hated his body for being so weak. Time had changed things. These days Miroku accepted himself for who he was, limitations and all.

The next day was his day off from the center, and Miroku was actually hard pressed to think of anything he could have Kohaku do. He hadn't thought that Sango would be too anxious to have him start, but it did fit in with what he knew of the older Akiato sibling. Being that it was already fall, the leaves were piling up in his lawn, but that wouldn't take Kohaku long. When the judge had ordered Kohaku to give Miroku whatever "assistance" he might need, she had obviously jumped to the conclusion that he needed assistance. In fact, the only reason Miroku ever hired anyone to do lawn work was that he always had done so even before he got shot. He'd always hated doing it, and if he could afford to avoid it….why not? Despite what many able bodied people thought, he could do just about anything he needed to do. With a few adjustments to his home he had complete independence.

Miroku spent most of his day at his computer revising the latest chapter of his new novel. What had started as a hobby in rehab had ended up being his new career. Being a detective had been his life long ambition, and it wouldn't have been like him to just turn his back on it. Drawing on his experience on the crime scene. Miroku was now a very successful mystery writer. He was currently working on the third in his series. The main character, Tyler Salvatore was based off of one of the senior officers that he'd worked with on several cases. Salvatore was a mixture of a modern day Sherlock Holmes with a bit of James Bond. When he'd sent the first novel out, he'd only done it because of a stupid bet. He never imagined that it would get published let alone become a best seller. Two finished novels later, Miroku still thought of himself as more of a cop than a writer.

The day slipped by before he knew it. He hadn't thought of a single thing for Kohaku to do when Tom was knocking on his door. The Irish cop was in his street clothes, and obviously not happy. Miroku rolled himself out on the porch, and forced a smile.

"So you managed to be on time for once, Tom," Miroku joked.

Tom's lips never even twitched. "Yeah, and Sango will be on time to pick him up at six."

"Coming in for coffee?" Miroku asked hoping that Tom would buy him some sort of time with the kid.

"Nope, gotta get home to the woman." In other words, Tom didn't want anything to do with this.

Fair enough, Miroku thought. He smiled at Kohaku. It was the first time he'd really studied the teen. The boy was about average height and skinny as a rail. His shaggy black hair came down over his eyes, and he stared at his worn Converses. "So I guess we're on our own for the afternoon, Kohaku."

Kohaku shrugged.

Tom glared at the kid and opened his mouth, but Miroku shook his head. "Come on inside, and we'll talk about what you'll be doing," he said motioning to the door. "Thanks for bringing him out, Tom. I'm going to get the van back tomorrow, so I won't need to call in that favor just yet."

"Like hell," Tom murmured gruffly. Miroku didn't miss the slight chuckle buried in his growl. The older man gave a rough salute. "Have fun."

"I'll see you later."

Inside, Kohaku was standing in the hall staring at some of the pictures hanging on the walls. Jana had put them up when she still lived here, and Miroku wasn't in any hurry to take them down. Even without looking, Miroku could guess which one would get the attention of a fourteen year old boy. "That's ex-fiance, Jana."

Kohaku's comment was barely audible. "She's hot."

"Yeah, she is," Miroku agreed. Jana was the kind of woman no man in his right man wouldn't find attractive. She was the classic tall, slender, Nordic looking blonde type that you'd expect to see in some lingerie magazine.

"Did she dump you?" Kohaku asked rudely.

Unperturbed, Miroku shook his head. "We grew apart."

The kid let out a little laugh. "Right."

Ignoring the sarcasm wasn't hard. Miroku had kind of expected something like this. Teens quite often fell behind a wall of sarcasm and pessimism to hide from what was really bothering them. In fact, Kohaku was a lot like he had been at that age. Miroku hadn't been too much younger when his own father was killed. Loosing a parent was never easy, but to have lost both parents by fourteen had to be horrible for him. Yet as much empathy as he felt for the boy, he wasn't about to just let him off the hook.

"Why don't we go into the kitchen. I missed lunch. Are you hungry?" he asked. Kohaku shrugged, but he did follow Miroku to the kitchen. He did his best to feign disinterest as Miroku opened the fridge and pulled out an assortment of deli meats and cheese. "What do you like?"

"Turkey and cheddar."

Mirku nodded and made himself the same thing. "There are chips in the bottom cupboard over there if you want them."

For a minute, Kohaku just stared at him blankly, but then he did get the chips. The two sat in silence at the kitchen table for what seemed like eternity. Miroku was smart enough to let Kohaku take his time. "Thanks," the boy said grudgingly. "I didn't eat lunch either."

"Why not?" Miroku asked

All Kohaku did was shrug once again. "So what am I going to be doing?"

"To be honest, I'm not exactly sure. I do have some rough ideas, but I wasn't really expecting your sister to want you to get started so quickly," he admitted.

"That's Sango for you." Kohaku frowned. "Do I get to count this?"

"Sure," Miroku agreed. "I am going to have you rake some leaves, but other than that, you can just do your homework until six. Next time, I have some things I want to get started on."

"Like what?" Kohaku wrinkled his nose.

"Nothing too bad," he assured him. "I do want to get my garage cleaned out before winter, and I might have you go up into my attic for a few things. After that, we'll just play it by ear. I might drag you along to the youth center to do some odd jobs there."

"The youth center? You mean that shitty building downtown?"

Miroku sighed. "We're renovating. The youth center is all non-profit so it's not like we can go buy a high rise. Even the janitorial staff is volunteer, and you just volunteered."

Kohaku didn't say another word until after they had eaten. He didn't offer to help Miroku clean up—which could have been out of respect for Miroku's autonomy, but was more likely just stubbornness. However, he didn't protest when Miroku led him out to the garage and handed him a rake. He watched Kohaku from his porch as he laid some trash bags on the stairs. The more he saw of the kid, the more he stuck to his original theory about him. Kohaku wasn't a bad kid, just like Miroku hadn't been a bad kid when he'd gotten into trouble.

At fifteen, Miroku had tried shoplifting for the first time and gotten away with it. It was a rush, and his father wasn't standing over his shoulder telling him what to do anymore. He reasoned that he wasn't hurting anyone…so why not? At the time, he didn't see that his mother was suffering because of him. He didn't really understand the cycle of things. All he wanted was that feeling of power that he got from walking out the door with whatever he had tucked under his coat. The first time he got busted, that feeling came crashing down to the floor around him. He was forced to look his mother in the eye, and admit what he had done. Miroku ended up straightening up—something many people never did, not even his sister.

By the time six o'clock rolled around. Kohaku had been staring at the same page in his book for almost an hour. Miroku wasn't about to call him on it. He knew all too well that it would be the wrong move. Instead, he sat at the other end of the table with his laptop. He'd deleted almost as much as he'd typed, and that was never a good sign. When the door bell rang, both men were relieved. .

Miroku opened the door for Sango, and smiled. "Tom wasn't kidding when he said you'd be right on time."

Sango shrugged. "Has he been alright for you?"

He nodded. "Would you mind having a seat in the living room for a minute? I'd kind of like to get a schedule worked out, if that's ok with you."

His eyes moved over as he watched her sit on the couch. She was dressed in a very stylish skirt and blouse, and her hair was pulled back. Sango truly was a very beautiful woman. He was careful enough to avoid letting his gaze stop at any one point. Luckily, her attention had drifted to rather sparse furnishings in the room. "You have a lovely home," she murmured.

"Thank you. Would you like a cup of coffee?"

"No, thank you," she replied. "Mr. Koriasu…"

"Miroku," he corrected.

"Miroku, I really do appreciate what you're doing for Kohaku. So long as it doesn't interfere with his schoolwork, I'm willing to agree to almost any schedule."

Running a hand through his hair, he tried to think what the best days were for him. "How about Tuesdays and Thursdays after school, and Saturdays in the morning?"

"That sounds reasonable," she agreed. Sango's gaze roamed the room, the floor—anywhere but to him.

"Don't feel like you have to go along with that schedule, if it doesn't suit you. I'd gladly change it," Miroku offered.

For the first time, her eyes met his. "I wouldn't go along with something if it didn't suit me."

He smiled. "Good. Tom told me that you were a lot like your father."

"You knew our father?"

"Briefly," he replied. "He was retiring right when I came in, and we were in different departments."

He could see her adding the numbers up in her head. "If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"Thirty this past June."

Sango's eyes widened. "I thought you were younger than I am. Kagome seemed to think you were younger too."

"You know Kagome?" he asked with a mischievous grin.

"She's been my best friend all of my life," she explained. A grin of her own appeared. "She told me you almost had to deal with her husband."

He hung his head in mock shame. "I do admit to having a weakness."

The first time he heard it, Sango's laughter was magical. It completely transformed the sad woman, and made her all the more beautiful…and dangerous. She seemed to catch herself, and sobered. "So Thursday then? I'll drop him off."

Miroku shook his head. "I can pick him up at the school. It's on the way to the center anyway."

Sango pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Alright. I suppose we should get going though. Kohaku probably has a pile of homework."

"Actually, Sango, that's mainly what he's been doing all evening."

She glared at him. "This is supposed to be punishment, not study hall."

Miroku sighed. "Well, I didn't have much for him to do today. Thursday will be a little harder for him. He'll be helping the janitors at the center get the gym back in working order for the kids, and that's no small task."

That seemed to satisfy Sango. "Look, I know that you probably think I don't care what my brother does, but the truth is that I only want what's best for him. I never want him to do anything like this again. I know it was my fault that it happened to begin with but…"

"It wasn't your fault," Miroku cut in. "I can see how much you love your brother, and I really do respect that. Kohaku isn't a bad kid, and you're doing the best you can for him. I understand."

Sango nodded. "But if my father were alive none of this would have happened."

"I know what it's like to lose a parent for a boy, and I really do think that Kohaku will find his way, Sango. You just need to give him time, and listen to him," he told her softly.

Suddenly, Sango stood up. She was avoiding eye contact again, and it seemed that she had said too much. "I really do have to go."

Miroku nodded.

After the pair had gone, he turned his computer off and stared at the black screen. He really did hope he could help. He would hate to see them end up the way he and his sister had. Neither of them deserved it. Sango was already working her way under her skin, and more than anything he just wanted to hear that laugh again.

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	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay in updates!

Chapter 3: Faux Pas

Sango tapped her pen irritably on the desk. Today was the first real day of Kohaku's community service, and she was having a hard time turning over her little brother three days a week to a complete stranger. Miroku seemed well meaning enough, but Kohaku needed real discipline, not time to do his homework.

"Sango, do you have that file I asked for?" Sesshomuaru asked as he strode into her office.

Sango's head snapped up, and she just stared as Sesshomaru blankly. "Um, no, I haven't found it yet."

Sesshomaru raised a brow, but said nothing. Before he and Rin had gotten together something like this would have put him over the edge. Even after losing his left arm, women had swooned over Sesshomaru…that was until they got a taste of his temper. Rin had managed to calm him a bit. Now, he merely frowned. "Do you even remember what file I told you to look for?"

Damn it! Sango opened her mouth to speak, but another voice saved her.

"Sesshomaru!" Rin was standing in the doorway with two huge bagfuls of what looked liked fabric. "Hello, Sango. I hope you don't mind, I am going to steal your boss for a little while."

Sango had to contain her relief. "Oh, not all."

Sesshomaru sighed heavily. "I thought we were going to discuss this later?"

"I couldn't wait, and besides, you even said yourself that there wasn't a lot you wanted to get done today," Rin reminded him as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Smiling slyly, she began undoing his tie. "Inuyasha can be the big bad boss for a day."

Amen to that! Sango thought from her desk. She was becoming increasingly busy with a lot of nothing.

"Hm. Sango, I want the files on the Smith account on my desk by three," he told her gruffly.

With the couple gone, she could finally breathe. How embarrassing! She really had forgotten all about the file. She was just going to have to dig in and focus. Somehow the words on her computer screen didn't seem to be sinking in, though. Sango really was worried about Kohaku. Though she didn't think that Miroku would do anything out of line, she just wondered how her brother was holding up emotionally. He could be extremely sensitive and moody. With a sigh of disgust, Sango forced those thoughts away.

The day crept by too slowly for Sango's tastes. Though she did eventually get on task, it wasn't her normal organized swing. She was thankful to be home, and immediately changed into her favorite jeans and t-shirt. Pulling her hair up into a ponytail, Sango finally felt something like herself again. The clock on the bedside table told her that it was only five, and she had another hour before she had to pick up Kohaku.

In the end, Sango couldn't wait until six to go get Kohaku. She mumbled to herself through the entire twenty minute drive downtown. It couldn't hurt to be early. After all, she only wanted to see what Miroku had in store for her brother. There was no reason at all that she couldn't come early. This was insanity! Sango realized that she was being over-protective. Heck, she even admitted that maybe this was the last thing Kohaku needed, but she couldn't help herself.

The youth center was located in the old YMCA building. When the Y had moved, a new charity group had bought the place. The center hadn't been running for too long. In fact, it hadn't even been officially named yet. There was an article in the paper about the board's discussions on exactly what to call the place. Sango knew that the center mainly catered to the underprivileged students and small children from the East Haven area. Years ago, the school districts had split into East and West Haven. West Haven—which Kohaku attended—was generally thought of as the wealthier and better of the two schools. Most of East Haven was made up of lower income families. Sango doubted that many people from West Haven came down here.

Sango bit her lip as she walked through the entry way. Signs of the new renovations were everywhere. Sang sidestepped drop cloths as she searched for her brother.

"May I help you miss?" a man asked from behind her.

Sango nervously tugged at her purse strap. "I'm looking for Miroku Koriasu and my brother Kohaku Akiato."

The man smiled. "Well, you can find Miroku down that hall in gym. He's got a group down there shooting hoops."

"Thank you," Sango said softly.

Even if he hadn't told her where to go, Sango was pretty certain she could have found the gym. From down the hall, she heard the trash talking and commotion from the gym. Sango stood by the door and watched the group before her. Miroku was flying around the court with the ball in his lap laughing as he played two on two with three teens. The boys didn't look to be much older than Kohaku. It amazed her how easily Miroku maneuvered his chair. He passed the ball to a tall, black boy, and then began to push himself near the hoop. The boy passed the ball back, and Miroku ducked under the guard's reach. He put the ball in the air. The swoosh of the net was followed by all kinds of good natured banter. Sango couldn't help but smile.

Miroku caught sight of her, and made his way over. In his jeans, he didn't look any less handsome or stylish than he had at the courtroom. Even the wheelchair couldn't make her unaware of that. His smile was mesmerizing. "You're early," he said pointing to the clock on the wall.

"I know. I…I just…" she stalled.

Miroku nodded. "You were curious," he supplied. "I don't blame you."

Sango's cheeks felt hot. Did he have to be so nice? "So where did you hide him?"

"He's upstairs painting one of the new daycare rooms. I'll take you up," he offered. He called back to the teens. "I'll be back in a few."

One of the teens whistled. "That all you gonna take?"

Miroku laughed. "Get your head out of the gutter." The boys laughed, and Miroku looked a little sheepish. "Sorry about that."

Sango nodded. "I know how boys can be."

"I don't doubt that."

They rode the elevator to the next floor, and Sango was a bit leery of the thing. It looked very old and still had the pull down gates in the front. As if he'd read her mind, Miroku turned to her. "We'll be updating this as soon as we get the funding, but I assure you it's completely safe. I ride this thing at least ten times a day when I'm here."

"I think I'd opt for the stairs," Sango commented.

It wasn't until Miroku laughed that she realized her blunder. "I might if it were an option. I can't imagine getting this thing up the stairs," he teased as he patted the armrest.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think…"

"I'm not easily offended," he told her with a shrug.

The rest of the ride was silent, and Sango couldn't stand her own embarrassment. By the time they reached the right floor, she had studied every inch of the floor. She followed Miroku down to the end of the hall.

Kohaku was hard at work with a roller in hand. His clothes were obviously borrowed, and he looked ridiculous in over sized jeans and a sweatshirt covered in blue paint. It reminded her of the time he had helped their dad paint the fence when he was just a little boy. He must have caught sight of them, because he took off his headphones. "It's six?" Kohaku asked anxiously.

"Almost," Sango told him. She admired the wall he was working on. "It looks like your doing a good job."

Kohaku shrugged. "Is this what I'm going to do next time too?" he asked Miroku.

Miroku shook his head. "Next time I'm going to send you into my attic. God only knows what you'll find up there."

Suddenly, Kohaku's stomach grumbled loudly. The teen looked away. "I missed lunch," he murmured.

That flew up red flags in Sango's mind. "Didn't you miss lunch yesterday too?"

"I hate cafeteria food," Kohaku lied. He became all too interested in his sleeve. "What's for dinner?"

"Um, well," Sango began. How could she have forgotten dinner? With as absent minded as she'd been all day, it really wasn't that much of a surprise but it was certainly embarrassing.

"I am going to stop out at this Thai place before heading home if you would care to join me," Miroku suggested lightly.

"Does that sound good to you?" she asked Kohaku. Her brother only shrugged, and that left it all up to her. "Alright then. Thai food it is."

Miroku gave her one of his devastatingly gorgeous smiles. "I'll drive.

It was a bit of a strange set up inside Miroku's van. The middle row of seats was missing to accommodate the lift and leave room for his chair. Sango took the passenger's seat and Kohaku sat in the far back. She glanced at him secretively from Miroku's rearview mirror.

His earphones were once again in place. "You'd think those things were attached to his head," she muttered.

Miroku laughed. "I was like that too, but back then, I was carrying around a boombox."

Sango nodded. "I listened to a lot of Bon Jovi when I was a teenager. Does that date me?"

"Hmm...twenty-eight?" he guessed.

Her mouth dropped. Most people figured her age to be about twenty or twenty-one. "How did you know?"

Miroku shrugged. "When I was a detective, I did a lot of undercover work. I learned how to be pretty accurate when it came to getting the details right."

The restaurant turned out to be not much more than a hole in the wall. The decor was slightly dated and cheesy complete with coy fish, but the smells coming from the kitchen were tantalizing. A young woman hopped off of the hostess station to greet them. "Miroku! We thought you weren't ever coming back," she said dramatically as she batted her eyes at him.

Miroku laughed. "I'm back and I brought friends. Mai, I'd like you to meet Sango and Kohaku Akiato. Mai's parents run this place," he explained.

Sango smiled and offered her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"You too," Mai replied unenthusiastically. She obviously didn't like that Miroku had brought another woman here. Mai led them to a table by the window and pulled away a chair for Miroku. "I guess you two will want menus."

"You really must eat here a lot," Kohaku muttered.

"I do," Miroku agreed. "It's a life saver when I'm putting in fourteen hour days at the center."

Sango looked at Miroku with a new sort of admiration. "So this is your full time job?"

"Not exactly," Miroku squirmed. "I do some freelance writing actually, and I don't have a schedule to keep."

Even though the service was less than friendly, in Sango's opinion, the food was marvelous. The blend of spices in her meal gave it just the right balance of sweetness and heat. Kohaku must have liked his, because the plate disappeared before she realized it. Sango took one more bite of noodles before surrendering.

"Ah," she sighed. "I am glad I didn't cook."

Miroku gave her one of those dazzling smiles. "I'm sure your a great cook."

Kohaku snorted. "Unless it comes from a box, don't trust anything Sango makes."

"Hey!"

To her chagrin, Miroku joined in on the teasing. "The good looking ones sadly never are. My ex-fiance made things that the dog wouldn't touch. You know Roberto's Pizzaria right?"

"It's on speed dial," Kohaku confirmed grimly.

"Ok, I give in!" Sango said with raised hands.

The men at the table laughed heartily. It was good to see her brother look so happy. She didn't get to see him smile very much these days. Since their father's death, he had drawn back from her. Sango missed her brother. They had always been so close. She wished that this could last.

Unfortunately, when they were a back in the van, the moment was gone. Kohaku didn't say goodbye to Miroku when he dropped them off at Sango's car. He raced off with headphones on.

Sango reached into her purse and pulled out a twenty. "Are you sure I can't give you anything on dinner?"

Miroku shook his head. "I offered to take you, and I wouldn't have done it if I didn't want to. It beats eating dinner alone."

"I'm sure Mai would have joined you."

He laughed. "I'm sure she would but I'm going to at least wait until she's legal."

Sango snorted. "I heard that you were a pervert. At least you aren't a pedophile."

Miroku gave her a strange look. "Most women find me non-threatening. Do you?"

Her heart fluttered wildly. "I don't know."

Sango ducked out of the van as quickly as she could, and rushed to the sanctuary of her car. Her crush was getting the better of her, and she had better get it under control...FAST.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Miroku felt like shit. He wrapped his blanket tightly around his shoulders and shivered. Had it really gotten that cold over night? He wondered. Suddenly—and quite violently—his stomach lurched, and Miroku reached for the bedside waste can. After several moments of dry heaves, he managed to right himself. His arms felt leaden as he pulled himself to his wheelchair. Closing his eyes, Miroku tried his best to will away the feeling of vertigo. He couldn't remember ever feeling so sick in his entire life. A sinking suspicion crossed his mind, but he hoped he was wrong.

In the bathroom, Miroku's fear was confirmed. His urine was dark and foul smelling. Though he'd never had it happen before, he was—as was every paraplegic—aware of what was happening. UTI's were very common with spinal chord injuries. Miroku immediately hung his head and threw up pure stomach acid. "God damn it!" he swore.

It took all he had just to wheel himself across the room. His head was spinning. Just a minute, he thought. I will just lie down for a minute and then I'll drive to the ER. That was the last thing that came to his mind as he transferred himself haphazardly onto the bed.

Sango was beginning to become annoyed. She and Kohaku had been knocking on Miroku's door for five minutes. At first, she had questioned how long it would really take him to push his chair from one end of the house to the other, but then she remembered how he'd moved on the ball court. He HAD to be home, because his van was parked in the drive and the garage door was wide open.

"Can we go now?" Kohaku whined impatiently.

"NO!" Sango snapped. There was a foreboding feeling that she just couldn't shake. As a last ditch effort, she dialed his number on his cell phone. She was soon greeted by his voicemail, and that sealed her decision.

She reached out tentatively and turned the doorknob.

"Sango, do you really want to be the second member of our family in the courtroom?" her brother warned from behind her.

Still, she couldn't walk away from the dark thoughts in her mind. Sango called out Miroku's name from the threshold before pressing on into the house. Everything seemed to be just as she had seen it before. It took her a minute before she decided to go deeper into the house. Again, she called out for him. This time, she was rewarded by a groan coming from the end of the hall.

Her heart thumped wildly as she rushed to where the sound had come from. As soon as she got near the open door, she could see Miroku's form lying half-on half-off the bed. His skin looked pale and wet.

"Oh my God!" Sango cried. "KOHAKU!"

In an instant, she was on the floor beside him touching his forehead. Miroku was burning with fever. Bleary eyes opened to bare slits as he woke, and confusion lit on his features. "Sango?" he asked softly. "You're here. Why?"

"I came to drop Kohaku off, and came to check on you. What happened?"

Moaning, Miroku tried in vain to lift his head. "Sick. Very sick. Fucking catheter," he murmured cryptically

"Holy fuck!" Kohaku said from behind her. Sango had been so intent on Miroku that she hadn't noticed her brother's arrival.

She shoved a phone in his hands. "Call 911!" she commanded roughly. Then she thought again. "No! Wait. Help me at least get his legs on the bed!"

Though Miroku had a muscular upper body, Sango could immediately feel how thin his legs were through his sweats. With Kohaku's help, she gently arranged his useless limbs on the bed. Sango had to fight back the tears and the memories. Miroku's haggard features reminded her too much of her father's before he had died. Whatever Miroku had, it was bad. She pushed soaked strands of hair out of Miroku's eyes. His skin was burning beneath her fingers, and he was obviously delirious. He tried to smile. "Knew you'd come, Kyoko," he murmured.

"It's ok, Miroku. Help is coming," Sango told him ignoring that he had called her by the wrong name. All she could do was keep him calm and try to listen to what Kohaku was saying to the dispatcher. Somehow, this felt surreal.

"You shouldn't worry mom like that. She called me asking where you were. Please don't leave again, Kyoko," he rambled.

Suddenly, two EMTs burst through the door. Sango found herself pushed to the back as they began the process of checking him over. One of them began firing a barrage of questions at her, and all Sango could do was tell them that she had no idea. "He did say something about a catheter," she told them still staring at the man in the bed.

The paramedic's face softened a bit. "Infection," he said. "It likely some kind of infection, but we won't know until he's been checked out. Does he have any family near by?"

Sango shrugged. "I could call a friend of his and ask. Would it be alright if I followed you to the hospital?"

"I don't see why not," the paramedic replied. "Call and find out about his family."

She nodded.

The paramedics loaded Miroku onto a stretcher, as he murmured incoherently. Sango felt tears on her cheeks, and he offered her a weak smile. "I hate it when girls cry."

Faking a smile, Sango wiped her eyes. "Then I'll stop."

"Good."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sango felt like a statue. All around her, people were moving around, hugging and crying. She just sat there. Kohaku flipped through a magazine irritably, but he didn't dare say a word about being in the waiting room. Tom would be coming soon. The cop had promised he would drop everything and be on his way. Why did she feel so alone? It wasn't like she knew Miroku all that well. He wasn't family or her boyfriend, or even her friend…no, that wasn't true. Miroku was her friend. Still, he wasn't the kind of friend who would warrant this kind of depression or her sobbing tears.

A hand slid onto her shoulder. "He'll be fine," Kohaku reassured her. He had that kind, gentle look in his eyes that he'd always had before….

Suddenly, Sango felt new tears on her cheeks. "He looked so sick, so pale, so…"

"So much like Dad," her brother finished. "But he's not Dad. Miroku's young and healthy. He doesn't have cancer."

Sango tried hard to push away the lump in her throat. "It's silly of me to be this worried."

"Ahem," a short, Indian woman in scrubs stood before them and cleared her throat. "Are you here for Miroku Koriasu?"

Sango shot out of her seat. "Yes. Is he alright?"

"I'm Dr. Ghandivadi. I've been with Mr. Koriasu this evening. I'm assuming you are his girlfriend?" the doctor asked. There was a look in her dark eyes that said her question was more than just curiosity.

"Oh…uh…yes, of course, I am," Sango lied, hoping it didn't sound like too much of a lie. "We haven't been together very long."

Dr. Ghandivadi obviously didn't buy it, but she nodded anyway. "Well, then I don't see any reason why I shouldn't share information about his condition with you." She took a seat across from Sango. "It seems he has a urinary track infection, quite a common problem with paraplegics. Mr. Koriasu is an extremely sick man. His fever is incredibly high, and he is having bouts of delusion. I don't want to alarm you, but there could be serious complications—even death with an infection this serious. The immediate plan is to get his fever down as quickly as possible and start him on heavy duty antibiotics. Is Mr. Koriasu allergic to any drugs?"

"Oh god," Sango murmured. "I don't know. I don't have any idea."

"Do you have any idea who would know? His family perhaps?" Dr. Ghandivadi sounded quite annoyed.

"He's not allergic to anything, but Percocet," a rough voice answered from behind her. Tom took a seat beside Sango. He put an arm around Sango's shoulders.

"And you are?" Dr. Ghandivadi asked.

"Tom Riley. Miroku gave me some of his information if anything like this ever happened," Tom explained.

Satisfied for the moment, Dr. Ghandivadi disappeared leaving Sango and Tom alone. Sango tucked her hair behind her ears. "I lied," she admitted. "I told her that I was Miroku's girlfriend so that she'd tell me what was happening."

Tom let out a half chuckle. "I'll have to tell that one to Miroku when he's feeling better. He'll be sorry he missed out on your relationship."

For the first time since finding Miroku, Sango smiled. "I feel like such an idiot!"

"I don't think he'd mind. Between you and me, Miroku doesn't have many people that worry about him enough to do something like that. And it's a damn good thing you even found him." Tom shrugged. "My wife and I both worry about the guy, but there's a fine line between being a friend and being a pain in the ass."

"Does Miroku have any close family?" Sango asked.

Tom shook his head. "His parents died when he was pretty young and his sister overdosed on god only knows what a few years back. I called his ex-girlfriend, but I don't know if she's going to make it out or not."

Sango swallowed hard. She couldn't imagine how it would feel to have no one the way Miroku did. Despite it all, Sango and Kohaku still had each other. Sango didn't know how she would have made it through everything without her little brother there beside her. Kohaku had been the "man" of the house while their dad was sick. While most thirteen year old boys were playing video games, Kohaku was helping Sango keep day and night vigils over their terminally ill father. He'd even been the one to hold her hand at the funeral. She couldn't imagine life without Kohaku.

Not long after Tom arrived, a nurse appeared in the waiting room. "Are you here for Mr. Koriasu?"

Sango snapped to attention. "We are," she confirmed.

"The doctor says that you can go in one at a time, if you would like," the nurse told them. She seemed to be waiting for them to choose who would go first.

Sango felt self-conscious suddenly. "You go, Tom. I'll wait until you come back out."

Tom disappeared down the hall with the nurse, and it was just Sango and Kohaku once more. Kohaku eyed her suspiciously. "You like him," he said suddenly.

"He's a good man," Sango replied cryptically.

Rolling his eyes, the teen shoved aside the magazine he was reading. "No, you like him, like him."

Sango bit her lower lip. "He's not the kind of guy I'd be interested in dating."

"Since when have you been interested in dating?"

It was true. Sango didn't really date. In high school, she'd been pretty popular with the guys her age, but she'd completely focused on her studies and let the dating scene pass her by. She supposed she would have been interested after college, but then their father got sick…the list of reasons why Sango didn't date simply went on and on. Other than a few blind dates (all orchestrated by Kagome) and a short fling with a real-estate agent, she was about as romantically active as a nun.

"Which is why I'm not interested in Miroku," Sango murmured.

Kohaku frowned. "It's not cause he's a cripple, is it?"

"Don't call him that," Sango admonished. She looked away from her brother.

"Why not? Miroku doesn't care, and he IS crippled," Kohaku protested. He set aside his iPod. "You know Miroku's not like I thought he'd be. He's actually really cool, and he does everything everyone else does…just, you know different. He's a good guy. You should give him a chance."

Sango sighed. "Even if I did give him a chance, Miroku isn't interested in just one woman."

"Have you asked him?"

It seemed so simple, but Sango hadn't asked—wouldn't ask. "Let it go, Kohaku," she told him softly.

A few minutes later, Tom emerged from Miroku's bedside. He looked slightly more grim than he had when he had gone in, but he did a good job hiding it. Sango doubted that she would have noticed that vaguely unsettled look in his eyes if it hadn't been for all her time with him. "He looks bad," Tom said flatly, "but I've seen him look worse."

Sango swallowed hard. "If you take Kohaku home, I will stay with him tonight," she volunteered.

Tom shook his head. "Go home Sango. Miroku is in good hands, and you don't need to worry yourself into the bed next to him."

"I wouldn't feel right leaving him alone."

"He won't be alone," a new female voice chimed in from behind her. Sango turned and was suddenly face to face with one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen in real life. From her platinum blonde hair that was tied up in a high ponytail to the bright red Jimmy Choo's on her feet, she looked as though she had stepped right out of a magazine. "Jana Van Buren," she said offering a manicured hand. "And you must be the new girlfriend."

"Sango Akiato," she returned. "I'm not really his girlfriend. I just..."

"You were worried," Jana finished for her. "Understandable. But go home tonight. I will stay."

"Good to see you again, too, Jana," Tom muttered from the sidelines.

Jana smiled. "I should think that you already know I have missed you," she told him with her light European accent making her seem all the more likeable. "It is good to see you, Tom."

As Tom gave Jana an update on Miroku's condition, Sango felt herself wanting to disappear into the back ground. Her initial reaction to the woman was to want to hate her, but there was something undeniably un-hatable about a woman who would drop everything, drive two hours from New York, and spend the night at her ex-fiance's bedside. It made her wonder why Miroku would ever give up such a great person—why he would ever want anything less. Sango was suddenly aware of how obsessive she must look to Jana—like a pesky girl with a crush who hang around long after her welcome was over.

"I guess we'll be going now," Sango said looking at the floor.

Tom frowned. "You're not going to see Miroku before you go?"

"Maybe just for a minute," Sango agreed biting her lip.

With Tom by her side, Sango made her way down the hall to Miroku's private room. Before she could go in, Tom put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't let Jana scare you off. I know Miroku would want you here," he told her. Without another word, he left her there to hover by the door.

Hospitals made Sango nervous. They brought back a whole slew of memories that she would rather forget. It took Sango a moment to steel her nerves enough to walk through the door. As soon as Sango saw Miroku in the hospital bed, she realized that Tom had been right: he looked bad, but not as bad as he had when he was still at home.

His skin was still too pale and slightly waxen looking, but some color had returned. Seeing him helped erase some of her fears.

Miroku's eyes cracked open. "Hey Sango," he said weakly.

"Hey," she replied. "You had us all worried."

"Well, I'll try not to be so dramatic next time I get sick," he quipped cracking a half smile. "But it did get you to ask me out."

Sango rolled her eyes. "Some first date."

"When I get out of here, I will take you out for a nice time, I promise," he told her earnestly.

Feeling self conscious, Sango shifted on her feet. "Jana's here. She said she's going to stay here with you tonight, but if there's anything you need..."

Miroku nodded. "Actually, before you go, could you get me a drink?" he asked pointing to a pitcher and cup sitting at a near by table. "The nurse put it over there and my wheels seem to be missing at the moment."

"Sure." Sango poured him some water and handed it to him. His hand met hers and lingered for a moment longer than needed and his eyes looked deeply into hers.

"Thank you, Sango."

"It's just water," she said shrugging off his gratitude.

Miroku shook his head. "No, really. Thank you for everything...for saving my ass."

A tight lump wedged itself in Sango's throat. "Your welcome. I...I was really scared for you."

"I know you were," he said soothingly.

Sango looked away. "You're the sick one. I should be trying to make you feel better."

"You already are," he murmured.

"I should let you get some rest."

"Will you come back?" he asked.

Sango nodded. "I'll stop by tomorrow."

Seemingly satisfied, Miroku leaned back into the pillows. "I'll try to keep an open schedule."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Miroku was miserable. Though the worst part of his sickness had passed, he was now feeling just good enough to be annoyed at his lack of activity. More than anything, Miroku wanted to be up and rolling, but instead he was lying around with an antibiotic drip in his arm. He was not the kind of person who was used to doing nothing. It had been years—not since the first weeks after the shooting—since he had felt this useless. Even though Miroku had come to terms with his disability, a hospital stay like this brought back all of the feelings of inadequacy and dependence that had haunted him all those years ago. Miroku had to fight to keep up a good attitude and secretly he wondered if he was failing.

In the armchair beside his bed, Jana looked up at him from over the file she had been reading. "What's wrong?" she asked. "You're fidgeting again."

"Just need to stretch my legs," he said, tossing out a joke that he had used time and time again through rehab.

"Ha," Jana coughed blandly. "You don't fool me."

No, he probably couldn't fool Jana. The pair had met in New York while working on a case. Jana had been in working with the assistant DA back then and Miroku had just worked his way off of the beat. Even back then, Jana had always been very astute when it came to what was really going in on in Miroku's head. She chalked it up to her inner lawyer coming out, but somehow it always seemed like something almost unnatural to Miroku. If he hadn't been able to lie about what he was feeling seven years ago, he didn't have a prayer now.

Miroku sighed. "I hate being weak."

The blonde set aside her files and stood up. "You aren't weak. You just got sick. It happens to everyone now and again."

"Logically, I know that. It's just...." Miroku paused. "I don't know."

"You hate that she saw you like that," Jana stated.

Miroku nodded. "I almost hope she doesn't come today."

"She will."

"She will," Miroku agreed sullenly.

Jana smiled. "You really like this one."

"You know some people would find this conversation awkward," he noted. "Some men wouldn't exactly like talking with their ex about their current prospects.

"But we are past awkward, and you are better than some men," Jana said lightly. She placed a sisterly kiss on his forehead. "And that is why you and I never had a chance."

"Is it?" Miroku looked away. "You know there was a long time when I didn't even know what went wrong between us. I knew it wasn't loosing my legs that drove you away but I couldn't really put my finger on it. There were a lot of nights that I considered calling you and saying I would give in and move back to New York."

For the first time, Jana didn't answer right away. The unshakable blonde looked slightly off kilter. "And you think I didn't ever think the same thing? I am not the woman you deserve, Miroku, and you are not the man that I need. It hurt to realize that but I believe we would never have made it, even if you had never been shot...even if we had never left the city. I think you know it too."

"I do," he agreed.

"I won't ask about her if it makes you uncomfortable, but for what it is worth, I think she is a good girl," Jana told him as she began packing away her things. "I think I will head back to your house and a take a shower. Do you want me to bring you anything?"

After Jana left with the promise of returning with a bag for him, Miroku was left to flick through the channels and lament over and over that the doctor had recommended bed rest. Jana had been right, he had hated that Sango saw him at probably one of his worst moments in years. It made him want to prove himself—to show her that he was every bit as competent and healthy as a man who could walk was. Instead, all he could do was lie around and sulk.

A gentle knock on the door came at around five and Miroku instantly knew it was Sango even before she slipped in to his room. She was still dressed in her work clothes and he didn't doubt that she had come straight from the office. "Hi," she said softly.

Miroku forced a smile. "I was beginning to think you had forgotten me," he teased.

"Some people have schedules to keep," she reminded him. Sango shifted uncomfortably as she took a seat next to his bed. "You look a lot better today."

"Thanks. I feel a lot better," he confirmed.

Sango pushed a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. "Tom told me the doctors want you to stay for a few days."

"Hopefully whatever they've got pumping through this thing kicks it enough that they let me go earlier," he said pointing to the needle in his arm. "I don't think I can take too much more of this."

"Must be a cop thing," Sango said with a certain tinge of dark mirth. "Dad said pretty much the same thing every time he was in here for treatment. You'd think after a while he'd have gotten used to it."

"I know I never will," Miroku admitted. "Between the hospital and rehab, I spent months in one of these beds, but I don't think you ever get used to it really."

An uneasy silence stretched on between them, and Sango began to shift uneasily. "Kohaku raked up the leaves at your place this morning," she told him.

"You should have let the kid take a break."

Sango smiled. "Actually, he did it without me even knowing about it. I thought he was still in bed, but then I saw him putting the rake back in the shed. When I asked him about it, he just shrugged and ran off to the bus."

"He's good kid," Miroku said. "Even good kids get a little lost sometimes."

"If Dad was here..."she began before shaking her head. "I just can't stop thinking that."

Miroku nodded. "I understand, but spending your life wonder what would have been doesn't change what is."

"I'm so sorry. Here I am visiting you in the hospital and talking about my problems," she murmured as a blush crept up her cheeks.

"It's okay. It gives me something to think about besides my escape plan," he joked. "The nurses have wisely chosen to keep my wheelchair away from me. I think they know I am a flight risk."

Sango laughed. "I almost forgot. I have something that might help distract you a little." She rummaged in her insanely large purse for a moment before digging out two paperbacks and handing them to him. "I absolutely loved these books. I don't know if you have read them before."

Miroku had to bite back his laughter as he stared at his own pen name written across the cover. "Really? You like these books?"

She nodded seriously. "They are really good! I'm not normally big on detective novels but this guy writes them really well. Someone told me that the writer used to be a cop and it shows. I can't wait for him to finish the next one in the series."

Sango was usually such a reserved woman, and to hear her gush over his work gave Miroku and overwhelming surge of pride. A sudden idea struck him as he stared down at the worn volumes in his hands. "I have read these before. Actually, I kind of have an 'in' with the author. I've known him for quite a while," he told her with a bit of irony.

"You do?"

"I do. He's kind of private though. I can't tell you anything about the next book," he told her.

Sango's shoulder shrunk a tad. "I wouldn't want to spoil it anyway," she lied.

Deciding that he didn't want to dig a hole too deep with his pen name, Miroku decided it was wise to change the subject. "So shouldn't Kohaku's grades be in soon?"

"Next week," Sango replied with a small grimace. "I am almost afraid to ask him what to expect."

"That bad?"

"Well, his grades have never been stellar, but they were never bad until he started hanging around Naraku. For a while I was worried that he wouldn't even pass. I'm actually thinking about looking for a tutor," she admitted.

"We have free tutoring at the youth center. I'm not sure if any of our staff have openings, but if they don't, I would be willing to help out for a while."

Sango frowned. "You already have done so much for us. I couldn't ask..."

"You didn't," he interrupted. "I offered."

"All right, but I want to check the center first," she agreed reluctantly. "Anyway, I should be going."

Miroku had to hide his disappointment as she stood. "Thanks for coming out."

"It was nothing. Sorry I can't stay longer. I'll drop by tomorrow."

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I want to."

After Sango left, Miroku couldn't help but feel slightly better than he had before she had come. He wondered why he wasn't bothered by that fact. Normally, Miroku tended to bolt at the first signs of mutual attraction, but there was something about Sango that made him want to stay. He wanted to be part of her life—wanted her as part of his. It had been a long time since he'd felt that way about anyone.


End file.
